AFTER NICK

by: Anne Sullivan
Feedback to: sullivan@seas.gwu.edu



DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.


The big man entered the sitting room slowly. With one hand he was stroking his beard gently in a motion that she knew meant he was thinking hard or was deeply troubled.

She watched him closely for a moment, and then turned her eyes back to the shirt seam she was repairing. "You've been a long time. I imagine it took quite a while to calm them all down. How is the little one doing?"

"Not too well. He rolled over to face the wall and pulled the covers up over his head. Didn't say a word at all." He picked up his newspaper and settled onto the couch opposite her rocking chair.

"He didn't say a word at supper, either. It was quite a shock to him."

"Yes. And not just to him. This business with his grandfather has all of them quiet and unhappy."

"By tomorrow, they'll all be acting out. So much for a quiet, peaceful week."

They sat like that for a while. She with her mending, he with his sports page. The silence occasionally broken by the quiet rustle of the newspaper.

"Damn him," she suddenly burst out. "How could he just go away and leave him like that?"

"Now honey. You heard what he said. He's travelling all over and isn't able to care for a child."

"I heard him," she said bitterly. "And I say it's just plain irresponsible. There's nothing that's more important than taking care of family. He could have found a way if he really wanted to. And that boy his own daughter's only child." She shook her head violently, as if to will away the tears starting in her eyes.

"Well," he paused for a long moment as he tried to find something good to say about the mess. "At least now he can get on with his future. All this time waiting has kept him in short term homes like ours. Now the social worker can start to find him a long-term placement with consistency and stability." His voice didn't sound as convincing as his words.

"What kind of chances for a good long-term placement does he have? You and I both know the best chances he would have would be if he were eligible for adoption. Since the old man refused to sign the papers, the courts will be reluctant to let him be adopted. He's more likely to bounce from one place to another." She snorted with indignation; the tears still close to the surface. "I just wish."

"I know, hon, but you know we've talked about this before. There's such a desperate need out there for short-term care and we can fill that. So many people can't do what we do. If all of the short-term foster parents gave up for the sake of one child, all of the others would remain stuck in limbo. While he's here, we'll give him all the love and support we can and help him to prepare himself for whatever the future brings. He's a smart boy and very lovable. I'm sure he'll be okay."

She blew her nose noisily and reached down into her clothesbasket. "Look at the knees on these pants. This is Randy's second pair this month. What is the boy doing?" She exclaimed with an exasperated sigh. Randy had gone from a mousy boy afraid of his own shadow to a roaring bundle of ten-year-old energy in the two months he had been in the Taylor's home.

"Just being a carefree little boy." He smiled gently back at her before turning his attention back to his paper.

She nodded and blew her nose once again.


He entered the sitting room sideways, careful not to bump the bundle he was carrying on the doorframe. Although not exactly small for his eight years, the boy looked much younger dressed in his too-big striped pajamas and wrapped in the big man's arms. "Daniel was having some trouble sleeping. I thought I'd bring him down here for a while."

"You did exactly the right thing. Why don't you set him down right here? Why else would God have given me such a big lap but to hold little boys when they needed a hug?" She tenderly shifted the boy and brushed the hair off his forehead. Looking down at the tear-swollen eyes filled with misery, she fought back her own tears as she gently rocked back and forth in the big rocking chair.

The huge man swallowed and looked away then picked up the afghan from the back of the couch. He laid it carefully around the boy, whose crying had finally subsided to an occasional quivering sob. "Let's get this wrapped around you, Daniel. There's a bit of a chill in the air. Looks like winter's finally here for good."


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